who is he?

He had a streak of blue ink smudged right at the back of his palms.

Sometimes his brows seemed out of place, one higher than the other. His socks were usually way above the ankle, despicable patterned socks of nuts – almonds, pistachios. Once or twice, cranberries. Sometimes, the socks would lose its elasticity and shrivel downwards. That’s when I noticed his black anklet. I abominated the idea of chokers on necks, this was a parallel for that poor ankle of his.

He had a habit of blinking twice in the speed of one. Especially when he was focusing hard. He was sometimes the cynosure. The adoration of being the juicy red apple in eyes of menace and foolishness.

His eyes belched out ichor. His hair caressed the lonesome loathed winds that huddled in solitude. His smirk lacerated and made multiple penetrations through the frangible brittle organ that consisted of all the aortas and vena cava.

He always cracked his knuckles, asking for some sort of wrangle without embracing the strangle. Each crack signified a note to the beauteous winsome tune he sung every time he opened that mouth of his. His shoelaces always came untied, usually midday. He seemed to swap the color of them every three days – as though they represented his emotions. The color gradient scheme could falsify such a tangible feeling. He always had his headphones on,

He always had his headphones on. They were matte black, had a pi sign engraved on it. I would readily pass him off as an anorak (geek, as per say). But no. It came off contemptibly intriguing. When we were deskmates, I would inch over just like a Jack Nohi. Noticed his music had a compendious range – classics to alternatives. Sometimes, he popped high and low to the beats as though it were some suction function in a vacuum cleaner that dragged him into their world of staccatos.  His lock screen wallpaper was a sunset. The ray of the sun covered the top half of the screen. His desktop background was covered with formulas. More of equations, I’d like to think.

He really liked his silver flask that contained earl gray tea. He liked pancakes with strawberries and rainy afternoons accompanying follies by James Goldman.

He had a streak of blue ink smudged right at the back of his palms.

He read stories to put his sister to sleep.

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